


Battlefront

by Rapida



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/F, Humor, Legend of Korra Star Wars Crossover, Lightsabers, Star Wars AU, redemption arc, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-04 08:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14589009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rapida/pseuds/Rapida
Summary: Asami's a Mandalorian bounty hunter that's been employed by the Empire to track down a Rebel Force-user by the name of Korra, who hasn't been seen in years. Even though they're both broken, battered, and overcoming heavy emotional problems, the universe needs saving, and there's no better team than the dysfunctional duo made up of a fear-stricken wannabe Jedi and a revenge-driven bounty hunter sent to capture her.orThe one set in the Star Wars universe where Asami's all mad and angry, Korra's all sad and gloomy, and the only thing they both need is a little love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I've worked really hard on this, so a like and a comment would really make me want to stick to it and write more! 
> 
> Thanks and enjoy the ride!

It’s a little too quiet and uneventful in Mandalore’s orbit for Asami’s comfort.

She wasn’t expecting a whole squadron of TIE fighters or many incoming supply shuttles in the first place, but Mandalore’s known for its insidious black market and infamous bounty hunters and smugglers - especially during this time of the year, when most imperial ships, droids, and soldiers are undergoing shift changes or upgrades. That means there’s a shortage of guards and a surplus of illicit activity.

Asami spots nothing that signals a sudden spike in criminal schemes. The only bright specks of light she sees on the horizon are stars, nebulas, moons and close planets. In a sense, it looks peaceful. Having nature be laid bare, without the hand of humans and other creatures damaging and ravaging, is a sight to behold.

The observation sparks a trickle of nostalgia - of days spent running around the countryside in Naboo with her mother in tow, nothing but grass and trees and rivers and _nature,_ a colorful sky filled with constellations and adventure all alone and untouched above them…

She would never voice it out loud, but she misses it tremendously: the constant buzzing of everyday life in Coruscant, the incessant clanking of ships flying about, the steady low bass of the city at night, the long and arduous hours spent working in the shop with her dad (everything beeping and clanking and coming to life around them). When the world around her is reverberating with sounds, it’s easier for her to stifle the memories and tears that threaten to spill. Maybe that’s why the quiet is bothering her right now.  

Asami clears her throat; Naboo was a different time.

She tries to shove the feelings to the back of her head and the corners of her heart. _That place isn’t home anymore._ She has orders she needs to follow; reminiscing and remembering is a waste of her energy.

With a sigh, she preps her _Sato Caster,_ a new and improved _Shadow Caster_ pursuit craft she had worked on with her father, for light speed. The sound of the ship’s upgraded turbines and generators whirring to life are like a symphony to Asami’s ears.  

_Find the young Force-user that’s been spotted in the Unknown Regions of the galaxy and bring her back to Admiral Amon. That’s all you need to do before you’re well on your way to Coruscant to work on those new low-density hyperdrive blueprints, Asami._

With a sigh, she flips the switches that ignite the engines and veers towards the other side of the galaxy. One of Amon’s men had informed her that the last known sighting of the Force-user had been in Csilla.  

The sound of her starship warping through space and time drowns out whatever demons and doubts plague Asami.

She hopes her mother would be proud, but she knows, deep down, she wouldn’t be.

 

.:.

 

As the familiar blinding blue tunnel of hyperspace travel comes to an end, the frozen, ice-locked planet of Csilla appears in Asami’s line of sight. She slows down her caster and preps for landing.

Asami doesn’t precisely know where in Csilla she should start her search; her source had given no exact coordinates within the planet. She reasons that her best bet is to head to the metropolis and start bar hopping; the beings that always talk the most are the ones under the influence of alcohol and drugs.

She lands her _Sato Cruiser_ on the outskirts of a big city and gears up before exiting it. Styling her full Mandalorian bounty hunter gear might spike alarm and raise questions, both of which she’d like to avoid, so she opts to wear a light red armor she had designed herself. It’s lightweight, bulletproof, extremely warm, and doesn’t call too much attention towards her like her Mandalorian gear usually does. She wraps a scarf around her neck, ties her boots’ laces together, and fastens her modified ion blaster to its holster on her waist. Putting on her enhanced glove that doubles as an electric shocker, she exits her spaceship.

 

 

.:.

 

Asami absolutely hates the half-truths people tell about planets and systems. All she’s heard about Csilla is that the mountains are breathtaking and that the palaces belonging to the royal families of the chiefs of the clans in the area should be considered archaeological wonders. It’s all unnecessary, positive blabber; no one talks about the downside of things.  

What they don’t mention is that it’s utterly, bitterly cold and that the whole planet is completely devoid of social and nightlife.  

All of the beings she’s met in the bars so far have been farmers from various clans in the region that have sought out liquor as the cure to their otherwise uneventful lives. The city she had decided to land in, based on the diverse range of people of different clans she met, seems to have a central and neutral location in Csilla. Everyone’s from everywhere, and, even though they don’t fight in the city, the pride they share for their respective clans is very noticeable. On the other hand, the few otherworldly smugglers Asami has come across seem to be older than the Old Republic itself, and she thinks they probably should’ve fallen alongside the Jedi and the clones troopers.  

After entering five dive bars and coming out empty handed, she decides to call it a night and go back to her _Sato Caster_. If everyone is going to keep claiming to know absolutely nothing about a Force-user in the area, Asami might just lose it.

_You’ve only been out for a day or so, and you’re already on the brink of insanity. Get a grip, Asami._

As she rounds a corner, she stops dead in her tracks at the sight before her. _Trouble, trouble, trouble._ Two men, roughly around the same age as herself she assumes, are surrounded by a posse of six blue-skinned and red-eyed Chiss (they’re a type of near-human species that’s native of the planet). One of the guys is slightly shorter than the other and has a rounder face, but aside from that, they both look very similar: strong build, strong jaw, black hair. They’re undoubtedly related. They’re both wearing similar attires: grey jackets and dark pants; but the smaller human’s jacket is unlined with green, while the taller one’s has red. A red scarf protects the taller human’s neck. On the other hand, five out of the six Chiss look the same; they don’t have many distinct characteristics to differentiate them, and they seem to be wearing the same uniform. The one Chiss that does stand out is slightly taller than the rest and has a more distinct outfit. It’s covered with medals and ribbons on the front, symbolizing a higher rank. He’s definitely the one in charge.    

Deciding to avoid any trouble, Asami is about to turn around and find another way to her ship when she suddenly overhears the conversation happening between the two humans and the Chiss.

“Tell Unalaq what we’ve told you like ten times already: we don’t know where she is.”

“And I’ve told you that I don’t believe it. You couldn’t have just lost one of the last Force-users in the galaxy! That’s preposterous! The Jedi are a dead race and you let her go?!” The taller Chiss looks about ready to combust.

Asami barely has time to control her look of surprise. _Those two know where the Force-user is? And she’s a Jedi?_

She shakes her head and casts her questions and doubts aside; if all goes well, she’ll have time to ask them everything later. The gears in her brain start turning as she asses the scenario and decides what the best course of action is.

“Well, technically we didn’t lose her… she just like, left.” The smaller human says.

“I don’t want to hear it; I’m getting the truth out of the two of you one way or the other.” The tallest Chiss signals with his hand to the other ones. They quickly spring to life and grab the humans, who immediately start yelling and struggling against their hold. One of them, the taller one, gets a good, solid jab in before he’s restrained. They’re outnumbered three-to-one; by themselves, they can’t really do much.

The thing is, Asami isn’t going to let that blue-faced twat take the only lead she’s uncovered in this Force-forsaken tundra. She unholsters her blaster and turns on her glove to maximum charge.

None of them have noticed her yet, and she sure as _hell_ is going to use that to her advantage. She starts running. Asami darts towards the nearest Chiss, who is one of the three trying to hold the smaller human, and stuns him with her glove. He crumbles to the floor, unconscious. Before the other two closest have time to react, she fires two direct shots to their chests that leave them on the ground, completely disabled.

“Holy mother of-! Thank you so much!”

By now, the remaining Chiss have realized that a third party has joined the quarrel. The tallest Chiss throws a jab and hook in Asami’s direction, which she easily evades. He grunts and tries again, throwing another hook that leaves his entire left side undefended when Asami sidesteps the punch. Sizing the opportunity, Asami strikes him with her gloved hand, furthermore shocking him with the glove’s powerful charge and leaving him incapacitated.

When she turns to deal with the other two Chiss left, she sees that the humans managed to subdue them.

“That’s right, tell Unalaq to suck it!” The smaller of the two humans exclaims right after kicking the tallest Chiss on the side even though he’s already unconscious.

“Thanks for your help,” The tallest one says, opting to ignore the other’s antics, “we probably wouldn’t have been able to get out of that without you.”

 _You wouldn't have,_ Asami thinks but doesn’t say. She securely holsters her gun and turns off her glove.

“Yeah, thank you so much! Also, that glove of yours is awesome; they totally didn’t see that coming.” The smaller human extends his hand, “nice to meet you, I’m Bolin, and this is my brother, Mako.”

Asami shakes his hand, “Asami.” Deciding to cut the small talk and dive right in, she says: “I need your help and I’m willing to pay.”

“Two of our favorite phrases. I didn’t expect you to know of our services, but we can discuss that soon enough. Let’s go get a drink someplace warm.” Asami thinks she’s starting to like this Mako, he’s more than eager to talk business. She follows them down the alley and into a bar in the corner of the street. The place reeks of piss and vomit, but at least it’s hot.  

“What are your services exactly?” She asks slightly perplexed. Their clothing doesn’t strike her as expensive, and, even though they managed to hold their own once Asami stepped into the picture to help, they didn’t seem to be professionally trained in combat either. If Asami had to guess, she’d think they were just regular people who unfortunately live in this frozen place. After sparing the both of them a second glance though, she notes that they really don’t look like they’re from the area at all.    

“That makes more sense. We’re really not that well known-”

“We’re still in the early stages of development.” Mako interrupts his brother. “We’re smugglers.” He sits in a booth by the corner, away from a band that’s playing a slow medley, and gestures for her to sit on the other side. Bolin slides in next to his brother.  

“Interesting,” Asami says, while trying to piece together how these two low-tier smugglers are tied to the Force-user - _or Jedi, apparently._

“Hey, Narook!” Bolin yells at the bartender, “brings us two beers and…” He looks at Asami in question. She nods her head and gestures with her hand that a beer is fine. “Actually, make that three! Three beers, please!”

“So, by the looks of it, you weren’t aware of our services. Why do you need our help then?” Mako asks once his brother is done ordering.

“I need to find the Force-user you were talking about.”

“Well, I don’t know if you heard the rest of the convo we had back there, but we don’t know-”

Mako signals to his brother to stop talking, “how much are you willing to pay?” His brother throws a shocked expression in his direction.

“Mako, what are you-” The strong gaze Mako gives him makes Bolin shut up. Bolin didn’t seem to be lying, which makes Asami think there’s something else going on underneath the surface. She doesn’t pay much mind to it now though; she’s going to get the information she wants one way or the other.

“What’s your price?”

The bartender comes to their table and hands them their drinks. As soon as he walks away, Mako crosses his arms over the table and leans forward. “Twenty thousand credits.”

If Asami hadn’t controlled herself, she probably would’ve laughed. Twenty thousand credits aren’t even remotely close to denting her bank account. “Done.” She says and takes a swig of the beer. It’s softer than she what she normally drinks, _but whatever._

Bolin’s mouth hangs wide open at how easily that progressed. “I guess we have a deal, Miss…?”

“It’s just Asami.”

“Alright,” Mako raises his beer in celebration, waits until Bolin and Asami clink their bottles and his, and then proceeds to chug half of it. His brother follows suit. Asami just takes a sip.   

“Where is she?” Asami asks while drawing circles in the condensation that formed around the bottle.

“Abraxin,” Mako says without skipping a beat.

 _Well,_ Asami watches the small drops and pellets of water cascade down the crystal bottle of beer; she swipes her thumb finger in a large arc that destroys all of them. _To the swamp is it then._

 

.:.

 

At first glance, Korra thinks the horizon looks peaceful, not at all faced by how quiet it is. She’s sitting in the cockpit of a ship she’s never seen before, and she’s not piloting it either. She glances behind her and sees that Bolin and Opal are in the seats behind her, their faces are clouded with worry and fear. Bolin is yelling something that Korra can’t hear - it’s all quiet - and Opal’s clutching his hand as if her life depended on it. To their left, Mako’s manning the controls of the guns of the ship (even though Korra doesn’t understand _why_ , there’s absolutely _nothing_ to fight against). And, sitting right next to Korra, with another look of worry, fear, and, for some reason, regret, is a black haired woman that Korra’s never seen before. Her hands are flying across the console with stress, but also an ease and certainty that Korra rarely sees in pilots - even though the woman seems to be scared, she’s handling it very well. Korra’s gaze lingers on her.  

When she starts scanning the woman with more a more careful eye, she notices the Mandalorian symbol in her shoulder armors. The quasi-skull is painted an obsidian black that contrasts greatly with the blood red color of the armor.

Even though Korra is extremely intrigued, she’s also extremely confused; why would she be working with a Mandalorian bounty hunter? _Where did she even come from? And, most importantly, why is she even here?_

All of Korra’s thoughts disappear from the forefront of her brain once the first volley of shots from an incoming TIE fighter hits the ship. A low buzzing starts reverberating in her eardrums. The sky isn’t as peaceful as it was a few seconds ( _Minutes? Hours? Days?_ ) ago. Now, it’s filled with X-Wings and Y-Wings who are engaging in a deadly space battle with a whole squadron of TIE fighters. A Star Destroyer looms on the horizon.      

She spots an X-Wing rapidly plunging downward, one if its sides burning, and crashing into the dreadnaught’s shield. To her left, a Y-Wing combusts after being hit by two TIE fighters.

The buzzing increases and increases; there’s a pounding and humming and beeping and it’s getting _loud._ So loud that Korra has to cover her ears with her hands, and _Holy Bantha -_ Korra _hates_ the noise and the loudness of it; she prefers the quiet.  

Korra closes her eyes and screams; everything she feels and hears around her is _pain_ and _fear_ and _death,_ and Korra can’t deal with any of it. It comes towards her in agonizing waves that don’t seem to ever end. It’s a pain and suffering Korra’s never experienced before - scratch that, she has, once before; it’s a pain and suffering that Korra _never_ wants to experience again, but, no matter how far she runs and how well she hides, it always manages to find her. Time and time and time again.

She hears the screams and feels the agony. Behind her eyelids, she sees the pained faces of her friends and family; of her parents, Tenzin, Mako, Bolin, Opal, Lin, Suyin, and that black-haired beauty she’s never met…

Suddenly, the Force resides. It’s quiet again.  

She feels nothing. When she opens her eyes, she finds herself in the cockpit of, what she assumes to be, a Star Destroyer. Everyone around her bears the symbol of the Empire.

When she looks out, the horizon looks peaceful. Korra has seen this sky hundreds of times before. Surrounded by bright stars and sparks, is her home, Csilla. A masked man to her right pushes her forward and points towards the planet.

“Watch and see what happens to rebel scum.” He mutters.

A beam of light from a source she can’t see shots straightforward; it’s aimed right at her birth planet.

The buzzing returns.

Korra’s heartbeat escalates to ungodly levels, she doesn’t know what’s happening, but at the same time, she does, _she does, she does,_ and she can’t let it happen - this can’t be happening to her. She screams and struggles against her holds until she feels the skin starting to peel off, until her joints burn and ache, until the white noise increases in volume and Korra can’t bear to listen any longer, _until she breaks free, damn it! She has to break free, she has to._

She closes her eyes and reaches out with the Force in a futile attempt to stop it, she’ll stop that _fucking beam_ with her sheer willpower if she has to. Instead, she feels the dread start creeping around the corners of her mind. It crawls and prowls, ready to pounce on her weakened state of mind. The fear comes back, the screams of the hundreds of thousands of inhabitants of the planet overflow her senses and Korra screams.

There’s nothing she can do; she collapses on the floor with tears streaming down her cheeks.

_I have to do something. I have to do something. I have to do something. I have to do something. I have to do something. I have to do something. I have to-_

The beam finally reaches her planet, which combusts on impact.

 

.:.

 

Korra shoots up from her cot. She’s shivering, and covered in sweat and tears and blood and mud and fear. Her blue eyes scan the room frantically until they land on a figure by the entrance.

“Breakfast is ready,” Is all Toph says before exiting the room.

With a sigh, Korra wipes her forehead with a towel she has lying around her room and puts on her shoes.

 _What the hell did that nightmare mean? What is the Force trying to tell me?_ She thinks as she makes her way outside. Toph’s preparing the same disgusting and stale stew she always cooks by the fire. Korra sits down on a large rock while she waits for the food to be ready.

“Another nightmare?” Toph asks while she stirs the broth with a wooden spoon. The movement makes some bubbles sizzle and pop, the smell of earth and mud and _Force-knows what Toph adds to that_ filling the air around them.

“Yeah… I’ve been having the same one for a while now and I can’t figure it.” Korra picks up a small rock and makes it start spinning above her hand with the Force. “Don’t you want to ask me what it’s about?”

“No, because I know you’re going to tell me anyways.” Toph grabs a bowl and fills it with stew.

“We’re in a dogfight, and suddenly all I feel, the Force around me...” She extends her palm and the small rock breaks off into smaller pieces. They fall to the ground when she lowers her hand, “ ... _everything_ is just dread and pain and suffering and _fear -_ so much _fear -”_ A small ball of mud lands in Korra’s face, effectively shutting her up.  “What the _hell_ was that for?”       

“Haven’t you been paying attention to my lessons?” The blind woman hands her a bowl of stew and a spoon before going back to the fire and grabbing some for herself. “The force is telling you what I’ve been trying to tell you all along: you will _never_ be able to get out of this stump you’re in unless you overcome the fear. Until you accept what happened, until you accept that fear, and _move on from it.”_

“I think that’s probably the most words I’ve ever heard you say to me in a sentence.”

“Well, I’m not going to draw it for you, and you can’t seem to get it through your thick skull.”

“I’m trying! It’s just, every time I get close, I see - I see Zaheer and lose feeling in my legs and I just can’t.”

“You’re going to have to, Twinkle Toes.”

Korra says nothing. She plays with the broth in her bowl as she slowly eats it. _She’s right, but how? How do I get through it?_ The sounds of droplets of water hitting the surface make Korra look towards the entrance of the cave they’ve been living in. It’s started raining, much to Korra’s dread. _Just focus on the now, on the present._ She can already feel the dirt turning into mud. _It’s going to be a long day._   

    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, I've named the story the same thing as the Star Wars Battlefront games, but I thought about it, and I think it makes perfect sense. Hopefully, you see what I'm talking about as the story progresses. 
> 
> On a different note, I hope I managed to convey how fucked up our heroes are. Asami's a bottle of revenge (why? what for? towards whom? we shall soon find out!!) and anger and hatred that's going to pop at any second; and Korra's been basically trying to break a wall with a pencil. She's scared and terrified about everything that happened to her (what happened? You'll see!), about feeling fear, and, no matter what she does, she can't move past it. She too scared to relive everything. 
> 
> I don't know, I really hope you like it. I thought it would be interesting to start a story with characters that are broken, and fix them (or will I?) as the story progresses. Please tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami's mission changes once she hears about a supposed hidden Rebel base. Korra meets up with the gang, and the plot thickens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter feels heavy and slow, that's because I only want this story to be about 7 chapters long. Everything should be set up soon so that we can delve into the action within the next two chapters. 
> 
> Always though, tell me what you think! 
> 
> All errors are mine; if you spot something, please let me know! I didn't have time to thoroughly proofread because I wanted to post it as soon as possible. 
> 
> I'll probably read it over withing the next couple of days and update.

“Wait, _that’s_ your ship?” Bolin asks, mouth and eyes wide open when Asami’s _Sato Caster_ comes into view. Asami can’t help but feel proud of her creation. “What type of ship is it? I don’t think I’ve ever seen or heard of one like it.”

 

As they get closer, Asami can better start to make out the circular shape of the ship’s hull. There are two pseudo-wings composed of rectangular frames at its sides that attach to the high-speed thrusters. The caster has two forward laser cannons close to the cockpit, which can only hold up to two people, and a laser turret at the top. It looks menacingly beautiful with its obsidian black and red paint job, the Mandalorian symbol shining brightly at each wing.    

 

“It’s an enhanced _Shadow Caster.”_ Asami stops next to one of the ship’s landing gears and raises her forearm. A holographic panel that controls the ship appears over the armor there. After punching in a code and clicking a few bottoms, the ship’s entry ramp lowers.

 

Bolin’s gaping; he looks at the caster and Asami’s magical armor with a childlike wonder Asami forgot was even possible to have, “that is _so_ cool.” Asami tries to suppress her smile. _Stop this nonsense and get back to work._

 

Before they get on her ship, she has to get something straight: what side do Mako and Bolin favor, the Rebels or the Empire? Whatever they say, she needs to take into account for the plan she’s currently in the process of formulating to run smoothly. If they’re with the Empire, it’ll be easier for her; if not… she’ll have to figure out a way to angle her story.

 

If she’s being honest, she thought about leaving them behind at one point of their walk over, but she reasoned that the Force-user would be easier to capture if Asami showed up in Abraxin with familiar faces. She could then subdue this _Korra person_ and dispose of the two brothers without a problem; they’re no match for her (and she doubts the Force-user is that skilled anyway; with all of the Jedi gone after Order 66, who would’ve trained her?).

 

She’s thinking two steps ahead, and, even though it’s great that Asami’s setting her pieces just like she wants them for a _checkmate,_ she can’t afford to let her guard down at the present moment. Unlike in chess, she can't predict the behavior of two people she's only just met. 

 

“Are you both working for the Alliance?” Asami tries to say it nonchalantly as they climb the ramp up to the biggest and main area of the ship. Just like the curvature of the hull, the room is circular; the ramp opens downward, close to one of the walls on the inside. There’s a small oval-shaped table in the middle with two sofas, situated one in front of the other, surrounding it. Above the table, there’s a ladder that can be pulled down; it leads to a small room where someone can manually handle the top turret. Adorning the walls are a few doors that open to various rooms on the ship, and, off to one side, there’s a set of stairs that leads to the cockpit.

 

Mako and Bolin share a look, “I guess you could say we’re Rebel sympathizers…” Bolin starts. “I mean, I’m more into it than Mako, but he’s-”

 

“Really, we just go along with whoever hires us.” Mako finishes diplomatically.

 

 _Okay, that means that if I’m paying them the big bucks then they won’t really mind me being hired by Admiral Amon -_ Asami’s trail of thought is cut short when Bolin suddenly interjects a comment.

 

“Yeah, Korra’s more into picking sides than we are. She’s _definitely_ a diehard Rebel.”

 

Asami blinks, _this changes things. She won’t come voluntarily if I say I’m from the Empire…_

 

_Fuck, I should’ve expected this; if she really is a Jedi, she would have never sided with the Empire in the first place._

 

_Think. Think. Think.  What should I say? How do I say it?_

 

Once they’re all completely inside, she presses another bottom on the miniature holographic control panel embedded in her armor to close the ramp.

 

“Yeah, before she came to Abraxin she said had worked in their base in D’Qar.” Mako comments as he plops down in one of the sofas, all of his serious facade has been replaced with tired-rimmed eyes and a frown. He closes his eyes and runs a hand up and down his forehead, trying to quench an awful headache. Bolin sits across from him; they’re too engaged in themselves and the ship to notice Asami’s state of shock. _D’Qar? The Rebels have a base in D’Qar? None of the Empire’s databases mention that…_

 

 _...what if they don’t know?_ She starts heading to the cockpit.

 

“What about you, Asami?” Bolin asks naively. Mako looks up, suddenly aware that Asami hadn’t divulged that information before. If Asami’s learned anything through her years training as a Mandalorian bounty hunter, is that people never associate ‘pretty’ people with what they consider to be evil. She’s not trying to gloat about her superficial beauty or anything; it’s a fact, and Asami’s exploited it too many times to count. Mako probably didn’t even consider the possibility of her siding with the Empire.   

 

“A Rebel hired me to find Korra, but I can’t divulge their name until Korra’s physically present.” _It could’ve been better, but that works. Vague, but not vague enough; and it gives you leeway to report to Amon and come up with a better plan._  

 

“There are only two seats in the cockpit, so only one of you will be able to come up. You’ll also have to share a room.” She plugs in a combination into the control pad in her armor that makes one of the doors open to a decently sized room with a small dresser and a bunk bed. “Now,” she says mostly to herself. Once she reaches her seat, Asami puts on a headband that’s connected to a microphone and a small earpiece, “let’s get out of this tundra.”

 

.:.

 

Korra wakes up shivering even though she’s drenched in a layer of cold sweat, with her throat dry and itchy, and the same _Bantha-damned_ nightmare replaying behind her eyelids.

 

_Silence. Strange woman. Dogfight. Noise. Fear. Death. Silence. Imperial ship. Masked man. Noise. Fear. Csilla exploding. Silence._

 

_Remember what Tenzin taught you: breathe in, breathe out. Find your inner peace and relax._

 

It’s become part of her normal routine in Abraxin. She wakes up from the nightmare, has breakfast, goes out to train with Toph (and gets an earful about how she’s not _listening_ and _understanding_ and _accepting_ her lessons - about how she has to overcome this supposed - no, _very real -_ fear). They have lunch somewhere deep in the swamp, continue their training (more of those _“listen to me, Korra”, “no, not like that”, “stop, you’re doing it wrong”,_ among others _)_ Then they come back, Korra’s completely tired and exhausted by then, to eat dinner. Korra then excuses herself to go to her room to meditate (not that she’s ever been good at it), possibly shower (if the water isn’t dirty and brown and filled with bubbles), and sleep. She’s been repeating the same schedule for so long that she honestly doesn’t even remember how much time has passed since she arrived in the swamp.

 

_Breathe in._

 

She used to tell time by the frequency of Mako and Bolin’s calls, but once she broke up with Mako those ended.

 

_Breathe out._

 

Korra doesn’t even know what’s going on with the Rebels, and, if she’s being one hundred percent honest, she thinks that’s what bothers her the most. She feels useless; like she’s slowly rotting away in this disgusting swamp. Every time she thinks she’s taking a step forward with her training, she ends up taking two steps back, and she’s doesn’t think she’s doing anything productive to end the Empire’s reign ( _come on,_ she’s just sitting here having a blind elderly woman whoop her ass and throw mud at her face).

 

_Find your inner peace._

 

_Breathe in._

_Breathe out._

_Find your inner - aw, for fuck’s sake; screw this crap._

 

 _Nothing_ is going her way, and she doesn’t know what to do about it.   

 

“I can hear you thinking from outside the room,” Toph calls out from the kitchen/living area hybrid of the cave.

 

With a sigh, Korra stands from her meditating position on the floor and exits her room. She walks over, head bent down in shame, to the same rock where she sits for breakfast and dinner _every. Single. Day._

 

“Aren’t you going to tell me what’s on your mind even though I don’t ask or am honestly interested in hearing about it?” Toph asks from her usual spot across from Korra. Her legs are crossed over one another, fists clenched and held one in front of the other above her legs; Korra assumes she was meditating as well.

 

“No, you already know what I’m going to say, and I know what you’re going to reply.”

 

Toph stays silent, and Korra’s secretly grateful for it. She’s tired of hearing insults and degrading comments; she’s tired of hearing she’s stubborn, that she needs to do _this_ and _that._ She’s tired of all that _bullshit_ and _crap_ Tenzin would reiterate about finding your inner peace in times of crisis, about how emotions and feelings are a way to the Dark Side; about how Korra’s strong - stronger than any padawan he had ever met or seen - but she has to control her feelings, her anger, her frustration, to not venture down an incorrigible, bleak, and deadly path.

 

She’s so fucking tired of being a _failure._

 

A _failure._

 

That’s exactly what she is. She’s a fear-stricken, _failure,_ a Force-user _clearly_ destined for darkness, fruitlessly trying to somehow follow the light and be a Jedi.

 

Korra hadn’t even noticed the tear drops cascading down her cheeks until she feels the small drops crash onto her lap. “I’ll be back later,” she chokes out, darting out of the cave and into the wild.

 

The usual welcoming and calming weight of her lightsaber now feels heavy. She’s drowning in a sea of expectations and pressure (so much pressure - she’s one of the last Force-user in the galaxy), with absolutely no land in sight.

 

After running for so long that her lungs feel heavy and she’s gasping for each breath, Korra stops. Driven by blind fury and frustration, she grabs her lightsaber, powers it up, and swings it around harshly, cutting down trees, rocks, bushes, plants… everything that’s in her way.

 

She feels trapped in a place with no apparent way out, and she doesn’t know where else to look to find an exit.

 

So she lets it out, all of the anger, frustration, hatred, sadness, and loneliness that’s plagued her for what feels like far too much.

 

Korra doesn’t know how long it’s been by the time she collapses on the muddy floor- covered in sweat, tears, dirt, and blood. Her muscles ache and her eyes sting. As she looks around, she sees how thoroughly she devastated the land. The whole clearing looks like a bombsight, with the smell of burnt hearth and wood still lingering about.

 

“Are you done?” Korra hears a voice ask to her right.

 

She whips her head around and sees Toph sitting in a rock on the edge of the clearing. Korra can’t help but let out a teary-eyed chuckle.

 

_Jedi don’t do this, Sith do… I don’t even know why I’m trying so hard to be something I’m clearly incapable of being._

 

“Korra,” Toph starts, but Korra cuts her off.

 

“Please don’t. I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t want to hear it. I’m sorry I wasted your time. I’ll leave as soon as I can and you won’t have to hear from me ever ag-” A ball of mud lands on her cheek.

 

“You young fools need to learn how to listen.” Toph makes her way over to Korra and sits down next to her.

 

“But look at this!” She moves her arms around in a gesture meant to indicate the space around them, “I completely destroyed this! Jedi aren’t supposed to do that! They’re supposed to be controlled and collected and-”

 

“And if you think every single Jedi that ever lived was able to abide by that antiquated Jedi Code, then you’re gravely mistaken.”

 

_“What?”_

 

“I’m sure Tenzin tried to teach you that way of thinking... Aang believed in it a lot too, but I never paid much mind to it.”

 

“But then…” Toph signals of her to keep her mouth shut.

 

“The problem with the Code is that a lot of people misunderstand it. Instead of ‘finding inner peace’, they bottle up their feelings, just like you did. You built a damn that couldn’t hold the weight of your emotions, so you popped.”

 

“How do I fix that, then? What should I do? How do I find my ‘inner peace’?”

 

“Stop trying to push down what you feel; don’t let your emotions drive _you;_ instead, use _them_ as the drive to accomplish whatever it is that you want. That’s the difference between someone who falls down the path of the Dark Side and someone who doesn’t: one is controlled by their emotions, while the other is fueled by them.”

 

“Are you blatantly telling me to feel after all of those years that Tenzin told me not to?”

 

Toph shakes her head, and places her hand on Korra’s shoulder, “we’re all human here, Korra, and _feeling_ is a part of it. Rejecting our human nature won't bring us anything but suffering.”  

 

“I think… I think I get it now.”

 

“About fucking time.”

 

.:.

 

_“Report, Asami.”_

 

“Yes, Admiral,” Asami checks around the living area space of the ship for the fourth time to make sure no one else is listening. The brothers retired to their shared room about an hour ago, but she wants to make sure they really aren’t in the premise. Once certain, she closes the door to her room, the Captain’s quarters, and sits down on her bed.

 

“I traveled to Csilla as instructed, but didn’t find the Force-user. There isn’t a trace of her because she left the planet around three years ago.”

 

_“How do you know this if you couldn’t find a trace of her?”_

 

“Because I did run into the two low-tier smugglers that sneaked her out of the system. They claim to be friends of hers, and that her current location is in the Abraxin system. That’s where I’m headed right no-”

 

_“How do you know they’re not lying?”_

 

Asami stiffens at the question, “I don’t, but it’s the only lead I got. I also figured it would be easier to subdue the Force-user if I arrived with familiar faces. If they are lying though, I’ll remove them and revert to step one.” Since Admiral Amon doesn’t inquire about any other details, she continues, “one of them blurted out that there’s a rebel base in D’Qar. There’s no information about that in the Empire’s databases, so I assumed you didn’t know about it.”

 

_“I have a spy infiltrated somewhere in the Ileenium System, but I wasn’t sure where exactly. The rebels have their comms so heavily guarded that it’s been nearly impossible to contact him. Hmm… This is great work, Asami.”_

 

“Thank you, sir. I expect to bring the Force-user to Mandalore within the next couple of days.”

 

_“There’s been a change of plans, Asami.”_

 

The brunette nearly throws her comm all the way across the room. All she wants to do is go back to Coruscant (to the buzzing, and pounding, and beeping of the engines), and work on the company with her father. Why the _hell_ did she think that jumping down this rabbit hole would ever be a good idea? It hasn’t worked in the slightest to channel her anger, and she definitely has _not_ gotten the revenge Amon _promised_ her.

 

_“If those smugglers are telling the truth, pick up the Force-user and go to that base in D’Qar. I’ll be able to communicate with you and with my inside source that way, with encrypted Mandalorian messages sent from your ship. The Rebels don’t have bounty hunter allies that can help them decode those encryptions.”_

 

Asami wants to scream and argue and tell him _“no, I’m going home”,_ but instead she says: “I need an alibi. I told them a Rebel sent me, but I wasn’t sure what name to give.”

 

_“Senator Tarrlok sent you, he’s the spy. I’ll inform him of the plan as soon as possible.”_

 

“Very well, Admiral.” She’s about the hangup, but she hears Amon call her once more, “yes, sir?”

 

_“Don’t worry, you’ll get what you want soon enough.”_

 

.:.

 

Asami wakes up to the sound and slight jerk of her ship coming out of hyperspace. She promptly - and still half asleep - armors up and heads to the cockpit. On her way, she notices Bolin and Mako have both gotten up as well. Mako nods his head in her direction as a form of greeting.  

 

“Are we there?” Bolin asks while trying to suppress a huge yawn.

 

“Seems like it.” Asami climbs the stairs to the cockpit and sits in the pilot’s seat. Mako and Bolin run up behind her. Even though there are only two chairs, two or three extra people can fit by standing.

 

Through the windows, they can see the dark-green, blue and black colored planet of Abraxin. With expert skill, Asami maneuvers the ship into orbit.   

 

“I know it’s a swamp, but I expected it to look more lively, ya know?” Bolin comments offhandedly.   

 

Ignoring him, Asami reports, “I scanned the surface for signs of life. There’s a bunch of beings and animals running amok, but my ship was able to pick up two distinct human lifeforms close to the equator. I’ll see if there’s a clearing we can land in closeby.”

 

“I can’t believe it! We’re going to see Korra again, bro!”

 

Asami doesn’t have to turn around and look to see Mako’s silence and discomfort.

 

.:.

 

Korra wakes to the sound and slight jerk of the rocks in the cave. Tiny pebbles land in her face and disturb her from her, for once, sleep-filled slumber. Even though she doesn’t feel danger per say, she does sense a great Force of anger nearby; so she picks up her lightsaber and darts out of the room. There’s a distuebance near, without a doubt. Toph’s already awake and alert in the living area.

 

“A ship just landed, but I can’t sense what’s inside. The hull is probably made of that bloody titanium…”

 

Korra sprints outside, but stops dead in her tracks when her eyes land on the Mandalorian symbol on each of the ship’s wings.

 

 _Oh, no._  

She sheathes her saber and settles in a comfortable stance. _How did a bounty hunter find me?_ Korra’s shoulders stiffen, and she holds on to her sword so tightly that her knuckles turn white; suddenly, the entry ramp lowers to reveal…

 

Her mouth gapes and she nearly drops her lightsaber, _Mako and Bolin?!_ She turns off her saber and hangs it on her belt.

 

“Korra!” Bolin shouts and runs to engulf her in a hug.

 

“Long time, no see, Bolin.” She’s laughing and smiling with joy by the time Mako reaches her. Korra’s ready to roll her eyes and give him a hug when she sees his greeting is only going to be a nod and a brief: “Korra”, but she suddenly notices the other presence in the ramp. Her eyes widen in surprise when she realizes it’s the black-haired woman from her nightmares. “How are you- what? When?” She can’t even form a coherent thought because of how fast her mind is racing.

 

“Funny story; so we were being harassed by Unalaq’s goons as per usual when Asami here,” Bolin gestures to the woman still on the ramp (Korra takes note of the blaster in her belt, the fitted armor she’s wearing, and the bright, almost blinding spark of a devastating fire in her pupils). “Also, yeah, Asami this is Korra; Korra this is Asami. So, Asami here jumps in out of nowhere and kicks all of their asses with unexpected ninja moves to save the day. Turns out, she’s looking for you! Ain’t that lucky?”

 

“Really?” Korra mumbles, not fully listening to the story. She hasn’t glanced away from this so-called _Asami,_ and the woman hasn’t looked away from Korra either. She’s strong, _very,_ Korra can tell from the slight swell of her biceps under her clothes. She stands tall and confident, hands held behind her back, shoulders squared. Her poise looks military enforced; she doesn't seem to be as cocky and suave as other Mandalorian bounty hunters. There’s something about her that Korra can’t quite place… she’s not exactly sure _what_ it is, but she’s certain that the other woman looks out of place (looks a little uncomfortable in her own skin).

 

“She was sent by the Rebels to get you. She couldn’t tell us who or why though, it’s classified information.”

 

Now _that_ comment brings Korra cashing down to Abraxin and straight back into the conversation, “the Rebels are looking for me? What’s wrong?”

 

Mako shakes his head, “ask her.”

 

“Can you all cut the ruckus? Korra’s enough by herself, I don’t need any more of you to disturb my peace.”

 

Korra bites back the response to ask _what peace are you talking about anyways._ “Toph, something’s wrong with the Rebels. I have to go back and help.”

 

She shouldn’t have expected anything other than the “okay,” Toph gives her, but she does. The older woman turns around to walk back to the cave; Korra sprints towards her, “Wait, Toph!”

 

“What is it now?”

 

“I just wanted to say thanks. I think I'm finally going to be able to get through with the training, and I wouldn't have been able to do that without you. I know you’re not a big hugger, but” Korra extends her arms and leans forward slightly, “can I give you a hug?”

 

Toph’s response is a slap of mud on her forehead. “Absolutely not, Twinkle Toes.”

 

With a sigh, Korra turns and whips the dirt off her face. “Be careful, Korra,” is the last thing she hears from her teacher before Toph disappears into the mist of the swamp.           

 

With renewed energy, Korra makes her way back to where Mako, Bolin, and _Asami_ are waiting for her in the entry ramp of the ship.

 

“Fill me in; who sent you?” She asks the bounty hunter.

 

Asami shakes her head and dials in a combination into a holographic control panel that appears on her forearm gear. The ramp starts rising at that same time that Asami looks up at her. “I don’t know the details, I was just hired by Senator Tarrlok to find you.”

 

_Tarrlok? Tarrlok wanted to find me? It’s definitely got to be bad if Tarrlok’s desperate enough to hire someone to get me._

 

“He’s waiting for you in D’Qar.” Asami finishes once the ramp is completely closed. The taller woman starts making her way to where Korra assumes is the cockpit; she follows, and asks: “Can we establish contact from this ship?”

 

“Not to Tarrlok directly, but if you know the codes for the radio signals of the base then yes.” Asami settles into the pilot’s seat and puts on a headband with what, to Korra, looks like a microphone and small earpiece.

 

“Pass me one of those, will you?” Korra signals with her hand to Asami’s headgear. The other woman shuffles around and picks one up from under a control panel.

 

Korra puts it on and sits on the second chair on the cockpit. She swivels around until she’s right in front of the radio’s controls.

 

“Flip that switch, press those two buttons on the side and just - “

 

“I know how to work radio systems, don’t worry.” She feels Asami’s annoyance as Korra manages to plug in the signal’s combination to call the Rebel base. “Hello? Is anyone there?” She calls out once the sound of static reaches her ears.  

 

“I know this isn’t super pertinent, but Korra you should really take a shower. You smell.”

 

“Not now, Bo. Korra, have you gotten anything?”

 

She raises her finger for them to wait a minute. As the seconds pass, Korra visibly starts to stress. Beads off sweat start falling down the back of her neck, her heartbeat picks up, and she can’t help but think:  _what if it’s too late, what if it’s too late, what if it’s too late, what if-_

 

_Stop it. You can’t change what happened, but you can change how you react to it._

 

_“Who is this and how did you connect to this station?”_

 

Korra nearly cries as the familiar voice flies through her earpiece. “Lin! It’s Korra!”

 

_“Thank Bantha it’s you, kid. We really need your help.”_

 

Whatever ounce of relief in Korra’s body dissipates instantly. “What’s wrong?”

 

_“The Empire, they’ve created a super-powered space station that can destroy planets.”_

 

Korra gulps. The noise in the room suddenly gets louder.

  
_“Alderaan is gone.”_      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooooouuuuuu...
> 
> ...what do you think? 
> 
> Yay or nay? Write your thoughts below!
> 
> Also, for the coming month, I don't know how often I'll be able to post because I'll be studying abroad! I will, however, reply to as many questions and comments as I can, so don't be afraid to stop by and chat!

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know, I've named the story the same thing as the Star Wars Battlefront games, but I thought about it, and I think it makes perfect sense. Hopefully, you see what I'm talking about as the story progresses. 
> 
> On a different note, I hope I managed to convey how fucked up our heroes are. Asami's a bottle of revenge (why? what for? towards whom? we shall soon find out!!) and anger and hatred that's going to pop at any second; and Korra's been basically trying to break a wall with a pencil. She's scared and terrified about everything that happened to her (what happened? You'll see!), about feeling fear, and, no matter what she does, she can't move past it. She too scared to relive everything. 
> 
> I don't know, I really hope you like it. I thought it would be interesting to start a story with characters that are broken, and fix them (or will I?) as the story progresses. Please tell me what you think!


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